Demons
by Camilla Luce Masson
Summary: Tim Shepard, was simply Tim Shepard. The utterance of his name made other greasers tremble in fear. He was simply a hood. Tough, hard, cold. Made that way by a world that either didn't understand, or didn't care. Tim/OC.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This story is based on Imagine Dragons song 'Demons'. If you've never heard of Imagine Dragons – shame in you – and no, they're not a stoner band, no matter how much it sounds like they were hallucinating when they chose their band name. The story is still set in the sixties however, and no song from this era shall feature in the story itself; authenticity is something I strive for in my stories. _

_Also I haven't reached a decision about the rating of this fan fiction although its probably going to be high due to, obviously language, and violence. _

**Haunted**

Brown eyes, the colour of fine whiskey, and just as warm, haunted his memories, his dreams and his every waking hour. Maybe that was why he drank a lot; he shook his head and took another swig from his bottle of Budweiser.

'Hey Timmy', his little sister Angela Approached him, dark brown curly hair, much like his own, pulled into a high ponytail, dressed in high waisted yellow skirt that flared out a bit and ended just above her knees and a loose fitting white singlet. He recognised it as something he had bought her a while ago, maybe for her birthday. 'Can I borrow some money so I can go shopping? I need some things and we need more food; the milks gone sour and the breads gone a bit mouldy'. She looked at him with pleading eyes that slowly turned relieved when she saw him pull his wallet out of his pocket. He handed her a fifty and she took the money and walked back to her room. She left the house under his gaze with her purse and her denim jacket, handed down from Curly, over her shirt.

Tim was enjoying his cigarette when his mother's partner, Jack stumbled in, reeking of alcohol, cigarettes, sweat and sex. He had been cheating on Joycie again, his clothes were all misbuttoned and back to front, with hickeys and lipstick on his neck. He seen Tim and started to approach him aggressively babbling unintelligently. Tim picked up his leather jacket and car keys and walked out the door after pushing the drunken idiot into a wall and out of his way. He hoped Angela didn't get home too early although he had a feeling she would.

He drove around town for a while, thinking, mainly trying not to think about the brown eyes that haunted him, and probably would for the rest of his life. In the end he decided to drive to the lake, to their spot, where they had spent so many days and shared so many happy memories.

Tim sat in his car and looked at the Lake. It was still too cold to go swimming, although the spring days did get really hot, promising a hard summer. He pulled a beer out of his six pack that he'd bought from Buck on his way out. And let his mind wander back to the day that he that had changed his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Assignments**

Tim was off in his own world, thinking about the argument between his mum and Dick this morning, he could still feel the remains of the anger he had felt when Dick had hit his mum. He hoped the bastards ribs were broken from when Tim and Curly had both started kicking them in. Suddenly Tim felt himself being pushed into a locker. He looked up and found a soc, Paul, holding him against the locker and his fist flying towards Tim's face. Tim quickly reacted and ducked under the next punch, pushing Paul whilst tripping him at the same time and giving him a good boot to the stomach. He heard a commotion further away in the hall way and seen Pauls friends hurrying over, and Tim, not being in the mood for anything else took off to his English class.

The whole class went quiet when Tim walked through the door, and Mr Jones looked at Tim over his glasses taking in the blood on Tim's hand which was currently held on his nose and the blood that was currently on his shirt. Mr Jones offered Tim the Tissue box on his way past. Tim took it. He walked past the only two greasers in the classroom, who were part of his gang, when they gave him a look asking what happened he held out his pinkie – he would tell them later. He sat down at his desk and started cleaning up with the tissues, wishing he had bought the bin with him too.

Mr Jones stood up in front of the class. Today we are starting an Assignment that will require Partners. And I have already chosen partners for everybody' there was a sea of groans from the students, 'this assignment is where we will be finding out about our partner, their interests, hobbies, what their family is like, what their parents do for a living, if they have an afternoon job, I'm sure you get the point. When we get as much information about your partner you will complete an essay about them, with a minimum of four pages. You can include some photographs if you wish but it's not a requirement', Mr Jones glanced at the whole class. 'Now time to announce the partners'.

Tim had finally stopped his nose bleeding. He listened as each of his friends' names was called, they were both paired with socs, and that wasn't going to end well.

'Rose Copper – Timothy Sheppard', Mr Jones droned on. Tim looked at his partner. Rose Copper was in between being 'lower and upper class' therefore she wasn't a sic, but she wasn't a greaser. She had long straight black hair, ivory skin and big brown eyes. She glanced his way and gave him a look of curiosity that was also tainted with disdain. He glared straight back at her, until she turned around again.

When everyone started moving Tim made his way up to the front to put his bloody tissues in the bin, before he moved towards Roses table and sat down next to her. She ignored him so he stared at her until she moved uncomfortably under his scrutiny. She finally looked at him and noting his lack of writing utensils, she ripped out a page from her book and placed it on the table in front of him a pencil soon followed.

'Whats your birthday and when were you born?' Rose asked him.

He fixed her with an amused look, 'Why don't we start with you', he said carefully choosing his words, 'It'll be a better starting point'.

'Fine', Rose sighed, 'I was born in Chicago, on the eleventh of November 1947'. Tim nodded and recorded her answer.

'Any siblings?' he looked at her.

'Twin boys, Jack and Charlie and a Sister, Terri', she nodded.

'What do your old man and woman do for a living?'

'Dad's an accountant and Mum's a nurse at the hospital', as she said this a wave of recognition went through Tim, Nurse Copper whom he assumed was Roses' Mother was one of the better nurses when it came to dealing with the greasers and their injuries. She didn't act like they were dirt on her shoe.

'Whats your cup size?' Tim asked and looked at her. She looked at him with a straight face, 'Whats your Jock size?'

Tim looked at her with carefully school features that masked his amusement and nudged her should with his, when she looked at him he lifted the pencil, bouncing it in her direction, 'we're gonna have fun, I can tell' he laughed. She poked her tongue out at him. Tim continued asking her questions till the end of class.

Mr Jones called Tim aside after everyone else had left. 'What happened today Mr Sheppard?', Tim looked at him and started to say nothing when he was cut off by Mr Jones, 'I'm not stupid Timothy, I know about the problems that go on between your friends and the other kids at the school, and I know that you would get a black eye and a bloody nose from one of your friends... unless they were Dallas Winston, but unfortunately Mr Winston found school to be below him and doesn't attend as you know, so he couldn't have hit you, and when I seen you this morning you were fine. So please tell me the truth, you're a good student Timothy and you've only got one more year untill you get your diploma, and I know you want that, or you would've left already', Mr Jones looked over his glasses at Tim, and Tim couldn't school his features to be calm, because if he was being honest he was completely shocked that a teacher had figured him out. But as usual, he didn't say anything, just that he got into it with someone whilst walking to class and he would be fine – he had been injured way worse. He could tell that Mr Jones knew there was more to his story but he didn't push it.


	3. chapter 3

The rest of the week carried on in the same fashion with Tim asking Roses' questions and changing the subject when she tried to ask him one. Rose had really had enough by Friday afternoon. She was going to get her answers from Tim no matter what. She had decided the next plausible cause of action was waiting at his car that Friday afternoon. What she didn't factor in were Tim's' siblings, Curly and Angela.

She was standing rather uncomfortably next to Tim's car, trying to ignore the stares that, what it seemed like at the time, the whole school was giving her. It seemed that Soc, Greaser, and the in-betweeners were all looking at her and whispering about why she was standing next to Tim's car. She shuddered at the thought of the taunts she would get from the socs on Monday, but no matter, she would deal with that on Monday. Right now she wanted answers to her questions about Tim.

Curly and Angela had snuck up on Rose whilst she was lost in thought, looking at the exit that Tim always used. 'Well what do we have here?' Curly slid around her, running his finger from the middle of her back over her right shoulder, stopping just short of her breast bone. Even though the fabric of her shirt created a barrier between his fingers and her skin she still felt like he had just undressed her in front of the whole school. She stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

'I think you scared her Curl', Angela giggled 'I think this is the first time, a guy other than her father has ever touched her'. Rose's eyes caught on Angela, a smirk grew on Angela's red painted lips.

Tim walked to where his car was parked in the parking lot, and where Curly and Angela were waiting for him, only to find they weren't alone, Rose was standing by his car and Curly and Angela were doing their usual routine of ganging up on her, they quickly quit it and sat in the car when Tim growled at them. Tim turned his attention to Rose.

'What ya want?' he asked gruffly.

'I was just wondering if you wanted to catch up later maybe tonight and we can do more of this homework that Mr Jones gave us?' she replied, suddenly finding her shoes to be very interesting. Tim placed his finger under her chin and lifted her head up so her gaze was even with his, 'look at me when you talk to me', his tone a little bit softer, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he removed his finger from her chin, 'Get in and I'll drop you home, on the way you can ask Curly and Angela about themselves, but don't ask about mum and dad and definitely not about home life or you walk home', he warned. Rose nodded her understanding and quickly slid into the back seat next to Angela, trying to ignore the funny looks people gave her. She pulled out her book and a pencil.

She had just opened it when Tim turned on the engine and Elvis started playing through the radio.

'So you guys like to listen to Elvis?' she asked, Angela nodded.

'We greasers tend to like him, because his music is really good to begin with, and he's a greaser like us, he understands us', Curly piped up.

'What other music do you listen to?' she asked after writing down Elvis and the reason next it.

'Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Big Mama Thornton, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash', Curly Started rattling off.

'Richie Valens, Buddy Holly, Bill Halley and his Comets', Angela added.

'Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, you know Rockabilly, Country, British Invasion, Psychedelic Rock, Folk Rock, you know the good stuff', Tim finished with a smile as Rose quickly scribbled their answers down.

Suddenly they were parked outside of her house. She looked at Tim with surprise, 'How in the world do you know where I live?' she asked him, confusion evident in her voice. He shrugged one shoulder. She finished packing her stuff and climbed out. Before she shut the door however she leaned back in and thanked them. Tim waited till she was at her door before peeling off around the corner.

Tim lay sprawled across his bed, shirtless reading a car magazine that he had swiped from the store. He liked the mustang that featured in it. Mustangs were tuff, and tough. Unfortunately the Socs drove them, and Tim didn't want to drive what the Socs were driving, but that didn't mean he couldn't dream. A knock sounded at his door, he pulled himself off of his bed and opened his door, and his mother told him there was a girl on the phone for him. But she didn't catch the name.

He grumbled the whole way down the stairs and answered the phone absentmindedly scratching his chest. 'Hello?' he asked, yawning.

'Tim?' the voice on the other end of the phone queried.

'How the hell did you get my phone number Rose?'

'Angela passed me a note with it written on it in the car?'

'Did she now?' Tim glared at Angela who was reclined back on the couch, her signature smirk across her red lips.

'Yes, she did. Anyway the reason I called was to see if you wanted to have lunch at a diner or something whilst I started on my questions for you?'

Tim pondered this for a moment before replying, 'I have a better idea, you own a pair of jeans right?' he asked her.

'Yes I do?' she questioned and answered at the same time.

'Good wear them tomorrow, and tell your parents you're not going to be back till dark, work out a time that you can go home that is still late enough for us to have some fun and you can see how I live, instead of asking me damn questions. I'll pick you up at three'. Before she could reply he had hung-up and stalked up to his room. He pulled on his boots and leather jacket and left the house.

He drove to bucks. He needed to get shitfaced, and that's what he was going to do. He pulled up a bar stool and ordered a beer. He was taking his first sip when Dally Winston of all people had to come and disturb his night.

'Hey Sheppard, words out you've got yourself a nice broad now, and by nice I mean she's a Soc. You bailing on us Timmy', he sneered, trying to rub Tim up the wrong way, and by god it was working, Tim hated being called Timmy with a passion, the only person to get away with it was his grandmother, it was her special nick name for him.

'You think your being funny Dallas?' he looked around for who could've given Dally this information; it would have had to have been from this afternoon when Rose was waiting outside of his car. He spotted Two-bit Mathews sitting across the room with a stupid grin on his face, Tim was going to have to have a word with Darrel about this, it was getting pretty old pretty quick.

'So you fucked this broad yet Sheppard? Was she good? Nice and tight? A virgin maybe? You don't get...' Dally didn't get to finish his sentence. Tim had planted his face right into the middle of his ugly little face. He was pretty sure Dallas's nose was broken. Tim downed his beer and handed the money over to the bar tender before walking out and driving home, he had had about enough of today.

Tim crashed into his bed in his boxers, as usual. It wasn't until he was half asleep that he realised he hadn't just hit dally because he was an annoying fuck wit, but he didn't like the things that dally had said about her. He didn't dwell too much on this new revelation. Worried of what it might lead to. Instead he drifted off into a light slumber. His hand clutched around the switch blade he kept under his pillow when he slept.


End file.
